Same Drugs
by consultingalchemist
Summary: "Kageyama stared up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. Again. He'd done it again." Soulmate AU where soulmates are revealed through religious prophecy. College-age Kageyama struggles with a bad habit and wonders if what he wants has changed. Rated M for adult themes.


**A/N:** A bit of background is necessary here. Kageyama's soulmate is Hinata (of course—I'm such a die-hard Kagehina shipper), and the prophecy gave them a rough estimate of when they'll meet. The religion Kageyama is a part of believes that saving yourself for your soulmate is vitally important. If you mess up in that area, not only is it extremely shameful, but your meeting with your soulmate might also be postponed.

Kageyama stared up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes.

Again. He'd done it again.

He had lost count long ago of how many times he'd done it. It'd been going on for nearly ten years now.

 _Who's gonna stand by me, when I'm like this?_ He thought. _Who's gonna think I'm worth a fight?_

Over and over, he wondered what drove him to this. Loneliness? Boredom? A need to feel grounded? Today, he thought, was likely due to a mixture of all three of those things. He'd been reading all day about people in love, and he'd had nothing to do today _but_ read. Everyone else had gone home for the holiday, so it had just been him in the apartment. He should really get out more.

He should really follow the advice of his counselor, of his parents, of his own better judgment. But here he was, yet again, hating himself for the things he'd done and thought. He'd been doing so well, too. He'd had a perfect week, and the grin he'd given to his counselor while reporting the success had felt blinding. Now, all he could think about were the echoes of his moans and the lingering burn between his legs. Thank goodness no one had been home; his head had not been clear, and he hadn't reigned in his noises.

As ever, he found his thoughts drawn to God and to Hinata. _I wonder how long I've pushed it back this time_ , he mused. _I'd been promised that things would get worse if I returned to my sinful habits_ … He couldn't help but think he deserved it. Of course he didn't want whatever punishment or misery was sure to follow, but even _he_ recognized his own … stupidity.

How in the world did he have friends? People who cared about him? How on earth was he allowed to live this life? Was it all going to be taken away from him now that he'd messed up again? _This really can't go on…_ he sighed internally. There was a darkness in his chest again. He wished he weren't alone. He wasn't even sure if he really wanted sex. He just wanted to be with Hinata. To have someone to hug for twenty minutes. Someone to talk to at three a.m. while sitting on the kitchen counter in his underwear. Someone to go grocery shopping with, fall asleep on the couch next to, tell awful puns to, and go on drives with.

He remembered reading a story where the two characters didn't have sex even once. They didn't even touch each other below the waist. And it had been so lovely. Perhaps even more profound than those relationships with sex. He'd found himself feeling light and happy and safe while reading that story.

At this point, he was willing—absolutely willing—to never orgasm again if it meant that he could have Hinata by his side. He just wanted to be near him, to help him, to encourage him to reach all his goals and dreams. There had been a point when he'd wondered if he still wanted Hinata, but oh, he was reminded now of how much he achingly _hoped_ for Hinata. There was no one else. And he knew he still had a while to wait, according to the prophecy. _It was probably longer now,_ he thought miserably. But he would wait. He would work to improve and be a good kid. He almost couldn't imagine what it would be like to finally be with Hinata. He knew it wouldn't actually be, but he imagined it would be the happiest thing he could experience. The happiest he could feel. Not that he really knew what happiness was. Oh, sure, he'd had small inklings of it throughout his short lifetime, but nothing truly lasting. The happiest he remembered being was during his study abroad in Europe.

But he was thinking in the same circles he always did. He was sick of that. So he switched gears.

For a while now, he had been wondering if perhaps he was asexual. A large part of him scoffed, arguing that clearly he liked sex if he read about it, looked at it, and attempted to perform it with himself. The more he thought about it, however, he wondered if perhaps it wasn't the sex—the pleasure—he liked, but the intimacy. The deep closeness, familiarity, and love people (often) share with that kind of bond. Yes, he'd read and seen other situations where the sex was for reasons other than love and selflessness, and that gave him pause. Even so, at this moment, he found himself hating sex. He'd found himself thinking that after receiving the prophecy. He'd honestly be content if he and Hinata never consummated their relationship (when that ever came to be).

Tonight (and the past several times, it seems), he had forced himself to look at those things, to turn himself on, to read and attempt to enjoy those stories. But he hadn't enjoyed it. He didn't know why he did all of it. He had frantically pushed himself over the edge, and while he'd had the best, most forceful orgasm he'd had in a while, he'd hated it. Why was he doing this to himself? Whatever did he stand to gain from it? If anything, he lost so much more than anything he could have possibly gained.

After staring into space for a few minutes, he came back to himself. He was definitely lonely. He might even be touch-starved. The other day, he recalled aching for a hug, one of those long ones where neither person wants to let go and the embrace is warm and safe. He wanted that more than anything. Definitely wanted it more than any sexual experience.

Was he allowed to change like that? To hate sex, to be repulsed by it? Personally, he'd grown to see that nothing good came of it—at least not for him. He didn't really want children of his own, especially after hearing the horror stories of how such a thing (a good, selfless thing that he sometimes wished he wanted more) changed the body and mind. With the fragile state of his own mind, he wasn't sure he could or should take on that responsibility. And besides, there were other good things to do in life besides sex and other things to think about besides sex. He was so very ready to begin a life where sex didn't take center stage.

Yet another space-staring match ensued. It was late. He was tired. His thoughts drifted to the novel on his nightstand. Eventually, he got up and changed into his pajamas. Decided to crack open one of his textbooks to get a head start on next week's course load.

He didn't think about anything other than geology for the rest of the night.


End file.
